Chapter: 3
Author: ReeraTheRed
Date: December 29, 2004
Rating: PG13
Summary: When Lupin is offered a werewolf cure, he dreams of no longer living in dread of hurting or killing an innocent person. But will things go smoothly? RLSS, romance but NOT SLASH.
Acknowledgements: Thanks yet again to Patti and Michelle for beta-reading this.
Author's Note: And some people thought turning Snape into a dog was weird . . .
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Chapter 3
Lupin took one look at Hermione's frowning face hovering in the fire.
"Come on over, Hermione," he said, sighing. She materialized above the grate and stepped into the room. As she opened her mouth to speak, he said, quickly, "Severus is verifying the potions manufacturing, Umbridge won't be anywhere near it, and Albus and Arthur have both thoroughly researched this procedure out and it's real."
Hermione closed her mouth, but she was still frowning.
"And Albus, Severus and Arthur will all be there when I take the cure," Lupin added. "Harry said he wants to be there, too."
"So do I," Hermione said.
Lupin nodded. "I'd be grateful."
Hermione relaxed a little. "Actually, I have been doing some reading on this, and it is genuine. The results they've achieved among the western American werewolf packs have been amazing. Although," she shrugged, "relations between wizards and werewolves out there are a little better than they are here."
Lupin nodded. "Hopefully, this will change things over here. That's why it's so important that everything goes well with this. It's not just my future at stake, but that of everyone who's been inflicted with this disease."
Hermione's frown came back, and she looked almost fierce. "That's why I don't like it that Umbridge is involved in this. If she messes this up, it could hurt the entire program."
"I don't think that's her intention," Lupin said, and he told her of his visit to Umbridge's office, and of Umbridge's dead sister. Hermione grew thoughtful, and said, "It certainly explains her vendetta against werewolves, but that doesn't excuse her. There weren't any werewolves at Hogwarts when she was there, and she was still horrible."
"I know," Lupin said. "But if this program fails, werewolves will still remain in England. This program is the best way to end the spread of the disease forever. That's why I think she's genuinely behind it."
Hermione considered. "I suppose it fits. She's out for power, even if it's in a petty way. And this would give her power, the feeling she's controlling your life and your future, and the futures of so many other werewolves. Maybe that's enough for her." She paused, and then said, quietly, "That's how she was at Hogwarts, so absolutely certain she was right, and taking such pleasure in punishing people. She enjoyed it." Her fierce look was back, and she said, "She was so self-righteous, so . . . so . . ." She grimaced, "Loathsome. It makes my skin crawl, thinking you're going to be associated with her."
"That's why everyone's making sure it's all on the up and up." Lupin sighed. "I want this cure. I admit it, I want it desperately. If it comes with Umbridge, for a short time, so be it."
"I suppose that's what matters," Hermione said. "But I'm going to be there, too, and I'm going to keep my eye on her the whole time."
"I couldn't ask for anyone better," Lupin said.
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Harry moved through the crowd in Diagon Alley, weaving between clumps of chatting witches outside the shops, stepping aside quickly as a group of young boys came racing along the cobblestones. He could come here whenever he liked now. He wasn't virtually a prisoner at his Uncle and Aunt's, or bound to the Hogwart's grounds. He was of age, and he could go wherever he wanted. The giddy feeling of freedom still hadn't left him, though it had been ten months now since he was first legal to Apparate.
He glanced ahead along the line of shops. And there it was, a dark hole in the brick walls. The entrance to Knockturn Alley. He drew closer, and suppressed a shudder, the air felt colder, a hint of winter in the warm May air. The shopfronts on each side were crammed so close together, and he couldn't see any sunlight penetrating the gloom that hung between the narrow walls.
Well, there was no help for it, he had to go down there. Hagrid did it all the time. How bad could it be? He could do it alone, he knew he could. But just the same, he looked around, and smiled as he made out a familiar dark shape, which only a moment before had looked like just another shadow at the alley entrance.
"Hello, Shadow," he said, "Going to come with me?"
A tall, gaunt dog rose to its feet. Skeletally thin, all bone and ropy muscle, covered with silky, black hair, it walked to Harry's side with only a few strides of its long, thin legs. It was so tall, Harry didn't have to bend at all to run his hand along its bony spine.
"I appreciate the company," Harry said. The dog turned his head to look at Harry. If it was possible to look down one's nose at someone while looking up at them, that's what the dog was doing.
Harry grinned. And then, together, they walked into Knockturn Alley.
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Lupin was wide awake long before his alarm went off. He lay in bed, thinking. This is the day. I'll never have to worry about going mad, going into a killing rage, again, after today. I'll never have to be afraid of killing anyone, or infecting anyone, ever again. I'll never be a danger again. And I'll never have to worry about taking the Wolfsbane Potion again. A little catch in his heart there, thinking of Severus, how Severus had carefully brewed the potion for him all these years. They might never have become friends without it. But we will continue to be friends, thought Lupin, with or without the potion.
He rose and washed, and began to dress. There were new robes, just for the occasion. Dumbledore had had them sent from Madame Malkin's. Can't have a ragged scarecrow showing up for this, Lupin thought, I must look respectable. He frowned, looking at the drapes of fine cloth hanging in the wardrobe. One more indication of how he was unable to provide for himself. No matter how much he told himself it wasn't his fault, it wasn't that he lacked ability, or that he wasn't willing. All these excuses, ultimately, they didn't matter. What mattered was that he continually failed, that everyone had to take care of him.
He stood, for a few moments, feeling ashamed. Then he straightened up, took a deep breath, and pulled the new robes over his head. Enough of that, he told himself. This is a sign of my future. No more fear, no more shame. And a happy thought, when I can work, I'll pay Dumbledore back for these.
He wished Severus could be with him, but Severus would be at St. Mungo's already, watching the brewing of the potion. He wouldn't be participating, just observing - an ex-Death Eater wasn't going to be allowed to touch anything at St. Mungo's - but just knowing he was watching made Lupin feel better. I'll see Severus when it's over, he thought, later today. When it's over, and I'm cured.
He took one last glance at his house before he went out the front door. A moment or two to reach out, mentally, and check all his wards - the tingle he felt told him everything was working properly. Then, heart beating in excitement, he Apparated to the street out in front of the Ministry.
Waiting outside for him was Charles Willoughby, the keen young Ministry fellow he'd met at the celebration at Hogwarts. Had that only been a few weeks ago? It seemed like a lifetime, and at the same time, only yesterday.
"Professor Lupin," Willoughby said, his young face beaming as he escorted Lupin into the Ministry lobby. "How wonderful to see you again. Madame Umbridge sent me out here to wait for you. She and Mr. Weasley will be out in a moment, and then you'll head over to St. Mungo's." They sat down to one side, and Willoughby went on, "This is so exciting. It's finally going to happen."
Lupin nodded. "I feel a little light-headed, I confess."
"How grand it will be," Willoughby said, "The noble wolf, finally allowed to take his place among us."
"Er," said Lupin.
"I should love to talk with you sometime, Professor," said Willoughby, "what it must feel like, to take the form of that amazing creature, now that you will no longer be driven mad by the moon's power. You take the Wolfsbane Potion now, so you know what it's like." He looked into Lupin's face with such open sincerity. "Do you run through the woods in the moonlight? Do you feel the wild, primitive urges, to hunt, to howl, to be free?" Willoughby's face was turning red.
"Er," Lupin said, "mostly I curl up on my sofa and go to sleep."
Willoughby looked crestfallen.
"Sometimes my friend Severus throws a frisbee for me," Lupin added. He saw Arthur Weasley coming across the lobby, followed by Delores Umbridge, and quickly called out.
"Good morning, Remus," Arthur said and he grinned. "Ready?"
"Completely," Lupin said.
"Good morning, Professor Lupin," said Umbridge, smiling sweetly. Lupin felt cheerful enough to smile back at her.
"We'll be off, then," Arthur said, motioning them to the doorway. Lupin had a last sight of Willoughby calling "Good luck, Professor Lupin!" before the door closed.
Arthur led them all out onto the street, and from there, they Apparated to St. Mungo's.
It was still very early, and there was almost no traffic at the St. Mungo's ground floor. There would be more later. And, Lupin grimaced inwardly, there would be a reporter and photographs, but that would be after it was all over. An easy price to pay, he thought, as he followed Arthur and Umbridge into the elevator, and out into the corridor to the Werewolf Ward.
Harry, Ron and Hermione were sitting cross-legged on one of the beds, and Dumbledore sat in a chair beside them. All four faces looked up and smiled as he and the others entered the room.
A St. Mungo's Healer stood beside them, a plump, middle-aged woman who reminded him of Molly Weasley. She gestured to another bed beside her.
"We won't make you wear a hospital gown," the Healer smiled as he approached the bed, "which I'm sure you're relieved to hear. But you'll want to remove your cloak, I expect. They'll be coming with the first dose shortly, and then we'll be getting your additional doses every half hour after that."
Lupin took off his new cloak and draped it at the foot of the bed, then he stretched out, leaning back into the pillows. "I'm so glad you're all here," he said.
"Severus is down with the Potions staff now," Dumbledore said from his chair. "I think he's enjoying himself."
"Are you ready, Professor?" Harry asked.
"Yeah, your last day of nasty potions," Ron grinned.
"Oh yes," Lupin said, looking at the three of them. They were all so grown now, they almost didn't fit on the one bed. Ron's long legs didn't seem as if they could possibly fold up tight enough, but they did. Harry wasn't much less tall. The Golden Trio, heroes the three of them, sitting on a bed next to his, laughing like the teens they were.
And here was the greatest, most powerful wizard of this age, sitting quietly in a chair, smiling at Lupin. One of the best Potions Masters in the world was down somewhere in the depths of the hospital, watching Lupin's potions being made. How on earth, thought Lupin, did an ordinary fellow like me come to warrant this?
Hermione wasn't chatting quite as much as Ron and Harry, and Lupin followed her eyes, to see Umbridge sitting quietly in a corner, well apart from the others - but then, she would try to be as far away from Dumbledore and Harry as possible, wouldn't she. There was something in her expression, more than merely being self-satisfied, an almost triumphant look on her face. Lupin turned away, and saw a deep frown appear on Hermione's face.
And then a young fellow in a St. Mungo's staff robe came into the room, carrying a beaker that sent up a stream of vapor.
"Ah," said the Healer next to Lupin, "The first dose." She took the beaker from the staff fellow.
"Drink up, Professor," she said, handing it to Lupin.
Lupin took the beaker gingerly. This is it, he thought. No going back now. Once I drink this, I keep going, it's potions for the next few hours, until the final one, and then it's done.
He looked at the noisome stuff in the beaker. The smell alone was terrible. "Definitely related to Wolfsbane Potion," he said, making a face. Harry and Ron grinned at him. He raised the beaker in a mock toast, then gulped it down as quickly as possible.
"I've got water here to wash your mouth out," said the Healer, seeing the look on his face. He snatched the glass she handed him and violently swished water around in his mouth, spitting it out into the bowl she held for him.
He looked up, a bit dazed, then grinned. Harry and Ron cheered, and Hermione clapped her hands. "One down," said Ron.
The Healer held her wand out over Lupin. "So far, so good," she said cheerfully.
"Feel any different, Professor?" Harry asked.
Lupin shook his head. "But I don't feel any different when I take the Wolfsbane Potion, either."
"You shouldn't feel a thing," said the Healer, "apart from a nasty taste in your mouth, of course. The real test is afterwards, we'll check to see if you're still contagious." She looked at the clock. "Take a rest now, the next one will be up soon enough."
And that was how the morning went. Every half hour, a St. Mungo's staff person came from the Potions Lab carrying yet another beaker full of foul-tasting liquid. There were supposed to be differences in each one, but all Lupin could tell was that they tasted awful. But he downed each one, and the Healer would run her wand over him and nod, and say that things were going smoothly. The others would chat between times, and sometimes Lupin joined in, but more often, he'd listen. Dumbledore sat quietly in the chair next to his bed, sometimes saying something to Arthur, but mostly just sitting, occasionally looking up at Lupin.
And Umbridge sat still, over on the other side of the room, not saying a thing. Just sat there, with her smug face. The nerve of her, Lupin couldn't help thinking. Hermione never took her eyes off the woman for long, Lupin noted.
And then it was time for the last dose. They all watched the clock, and the door, and when it came, it wasn't the staff fellow, it was the St. Mungo's Potions Master, Horace Delworth himself, carrying the beaker ceremoniously in front of him, his chest puffed out and his head held high. He handed the beaker to the Healer, and then stood back, watching Lupin intently.
The Healer handed the beaker to Lupin. There was a hush in the room, it was so quiet that Lupin could make out the soft swishing sound of robes in the hall outside, and looked up to see Severus appear in the doorway, followed by Professor Begay, who was smiling, and gave Lupin a thumbs up. Severus nodded his head, and stood by the door.
This is it, thought Lupin. This is the most important potion of them all, this is the one that makes it all happen. He closed his eyes, held his breath, and swallowed it all, tilting his head back to let every horrible bit of the stuff slide into his mouth and down his throat. It was the worst tasting of the lot, so bitter it was painful. He could feel it roiling in his belly. But that's good, he thought. It's there, it's doing its work.
He felt the Healer take the beaker from his hand, and heard it clink as she set it on the bedside table. Suddenly, he realized everyone was cheering - Harry, Ron, Hermione, Arthur, the Healer. Even Dumbledore was saying something. He looked and saw all of them grinning at him. Even Severus looked pleased (for Severus, at least).
The Healer held her wand over Lupin one more time. "We'll give it a few minutes before we take a few blood samples for testing . . ." her voice petered off and she peered at her wand, and then at Lupin.
Lupin felt hot - it felt as if the stuff in his stomach was flowing out, spreading out into his body and out into his limbs.
"I think I feel a little ill," Lupin said, and he stretched out along the bed so that he lay flat.
And then he passed out.
"That's not supposed to happen," Professor Begay said, looking alarmed.
"Something's wrong," Hermione said.
They all watched in horror as Lupin grew very pale, and his limbs began to jerk violently. His form seemed to grow soft and liquid, swelling up until it lost all definition, and only looked vaguely human.
Delworth and the St. Mungo's healer both looked stunned. Professor Begay's mouth was open, and his eyes looked perplexed. "The potion was fine," he said, "Everything was perfect."
Hermione shot a look at Umbridge, but she, too, looked surprised from where she sat, though she said nothing.
"Do something," Harry said to the Healer.
The Healer ran her wand up and down Lupin's form. "I'm trying to stabilize him," she said, "but something's fighting me. There's additional magic in this potion, I don't recognize it."
Dumbledore rose to his feet and thrust out his arms. A golden glow surrounded Lupin's form, and the agitation slowed and then ceased. The soft, only vaguely human shape began to solidify, and features began to appear again. Lupin's chest rose and fell.
"He's coming back," the Healer said, making wild motions with her wand. "he's definitely alive, his heart's beating, he's breathing, it looks like he could be all right."
Dumbledore's arms were at his sides now. He looked very tired, and his eyes were sad. The Healer had stopped motioning with her wand.
"He's - that is, Professor Lupin is, well, alive," she said, but her voice did not sound cheerful. "Everything's working, everything's, well, it's all there . . . under the circumstances . . ."
They all drew round the bed, Harry, Ron and Hermione keeping close together, Snape moving to stand beside Dumbledore, Arthur stepping to the other side.
Lupin's face and body looked wasted and thin, as if his already spare flesh had melted away, leaving him nothing more than skin and bone. Even the bones looked slighter, as if he were a boy, the lines of his face were more delicate, and his chin had receded beneath sunken cheeks. And then, as their eyes followed the line of his body under his robes, and saw the rising and falling contours under the cloth, the curves that were there that should not have been, there was a collective gasp as they all sucked in their breath.
"He's a girl," Ron said.
TBC
